


i want your midnights

by inkwelled



Series: pieces [2]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ballroom Dancing, CatradoraWeek2018, Champagne, Charity Gala, Dresses, F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Happy Ending, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, Mild Language, New Year's Fluff, New Year's Kiss, Pop Culture, Post-High School (Kinda), Romantic Fluff, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 19:04:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17249684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkwelled/pseuds/inkwelled
Summary: “Isn’t there a New Year’s Eve tradition where if you're alone, you have to kiss a stranger?”or— when adora is invited to a party to ring in the new year, she never expects the beautiful stranger that she can't seem to learn the name of. day two ; firsts/lasts





	i want your midnights

**Author's Note:**

> for the record, i have no idea how charity balls/galas work so just use your imagination on where the funds go to. or maybe it's just a new year's eve party - whatever floats your boat. but regardless! here is day two of catradora week, done and in the bag.
> 
> (let's not talk about how i already had half this written for new year's eve anyways before realizing it could fit the prompt without me writing a whole other thing. my outline for this prompt will never see the light of day; thankfully.)
> 
> links ; [catra's outfit](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/aa/ba/17/aaba17fd0a57a3ab82417ec4005014c5.jpg) and [adora's dress](https://fasbest.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/12/Sequin-Dress-for-New-Year-Eve-Party-and-Night-Out-79.jpg)
> 
> title ; [new year's day](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/taylorswift/newyearsday.html) by taylor swift because I'm Predictable And A White Girl, What About It?
> 
> enjoy this pure fluff!

Someone slides into the chair next to her, and Adora startles.

“Isn’t there a New Year’s Eve tradition where if you're alone, you have to kiss a stranger?”

Adora turns to the stranger with a polite smile on her face. “Not that I’ve ever heard of,” she comments and the stranger’s returning smile is blinding. It makes her heart race.

“Adora,” she says, holding out her hand, and the woman’s mouth crooks.

“A pleasure.”

“And you are?”

"Stunned by your beauty," the stranger says smoothly, and Adora knows the warmth on her cheeks isn't from the high temperature in the room. Or is it? She can't think straight.

Still smirking, the mysterious figure surveys the room and Adora takes her distraction to properly give her new seatmate a proper look. Despite how warm the room is becoming from the sheer amount of bodies pressed together, the woman is the definition of calm and collected.

Adora's jealous. Every minute she has to resist the urge to swipe at her forehead, but she knows Glimmer would kill her if she messed up her makeup.

She isn't particularly eager to face her best friend's wrath.

Adora knows she's staring, but she can't seem to tear her eyes away. Quite frankly, the stranger is intoxicating and is making her head spin faster than the alcohol. Adora has to stop herself from choking when the woman shifts and the light catches on her outfit.

The top, which ends at her high-set waist, looks like nude lace and is contrasted boldy against the darker sepia of her skin. The neckline sweeps low on her chest, exposing her collarbones and the blazer draped across her shoulders is a light cream color as well. Adora restrains herself from reaching out to touch it - it looks soft. How is it staying on her with all the movement in the room?

Her mind snags for a moment.

Unlike Adora, whose dress cuts sharply off halfway down her thighs and is the lightest shade of champagne while glittering like she's a walking Party City birthday aisle, the stranger is wearing slacks. If not black, they're the deepest navy she's ever seen, and Adora blinks.

They hug her thighs perfectly. Tailored, then, expertly stitched, definitely expensive -

"Done checking me out yet? I mean, I'm flattered, but it's starting to get kind of weird."

Adora flushes. "I-I wasn't checking you out," she stutters, and the knowing smug smile makes her stomach flutter as the stranger surveys her back.

"I don't mind," the woman comments. Adora has to suppress a shudder as the woman rakes her own gaze up and down Adora's body. She's given up trying to stop blushing. It seems to be permanent.

"What're you doing here all alone?"

"I'm not alone," Adora hums, eyes skimming the crowd if only to _not_  be staring any longer. "Well - right now I am, but my friends are around here somewhere. Probably at the bar, knowing them."

When the woman snorts, lips tugging into a smile, Adora's heart does backflips in her chest. "Mine too, probably. We don't need them, though, do we?"

Adora returns her smile. "No we don't," she says, and their glasses clink.

After a sip, she sets down her flute. "So, how'd you get in, Mary Jane?"

"I know the host's wife," the stranger smirks, raising her glass to her lips again. Adora notices how her lipstick leaves faint rings around the rim. "You?"

She laughs. "You know her wife? I know the host herself. Are you one of the guests Endellion was so excited about?"

"No way! You're Penelope's friends from out of town, then. She wouldn't shut up about them."

Adora grins victoriously and raises her glass.

"What a coincidence, huh?"

Smirking, the woman traces her finger around the shiny rim of her glass. "I don't believe in luck," she purrs, leaning close enough that Adora can smell the musky, almost floral perfume that makes her relax and stiffen all at once. "But I'll drink to it regardless."

"What do you believe in then?" she murmurs. Adora's brain shorts out under the realization of how close their faces are.

Under the flashing lights, amidst the pounding bass of the live band, she's _breathtaking_  and she watches the dip of the mysterious woman's collarbone when her lips curl up in a smug victory.

"Nothing that isn't right in front of me," Catra murmurs before Adora blinks.

She's gone.

Head whipping around, Adora can barely breathe. A feeling she hasn't felt in forever is rising in her stomach. Cursing under her breath at the fluttery feeling beneath her ribs, invading her stomach and crawling up her throat, she takes a swig of champagne.

She most _definitely_  doesn't choke on it.

The feeling doesn't go away.

Adora stands up suddenly, a cold draft slipping into the cutout on the back of her borrowed dress. She shivers, all at once cold and too warm. She has to find her friends before she _loses her goddamn mind._

As it turns out, finding a tipsy Bow and Glimmer is easier than expected.

When she locates them in the crowd, it's more by Bow's roar than anything else. Standing on her tiptoes, mentally cursing herself for not wearing her usual heels and instead the shorter ones Glimmer had coerced her into, she shoulders her way through the crowd.

Blue and brown eyes watch her from behind the rim of a glass, melted into the animosity of the crowd.

"Bow, hold on-"

She stops short.

Her best friend is atop one of the tables they had eaten at. She has no clue where his shoes, cumberbund, or tie are - all she knows is he's currently having a stomping contest with another man.

Adora's eyebrows furrow. "Uh - what's going on here?"

From off to the side, a woman snorts. "I tried to keep him away from the liquor," she says, sipping her own martini daintily. Adora tries not to stare. Why is everyone here so hot? She's suffering here. "But Seamus has never been good at not being _too much._ "

"So you know him?"

The woman nods, still looking uninterested. Adora notes how she never lets her eyes stray from the other man dancing on the table, though. "I should hope so. I married the idiot."

She blinks. "Wait - are you Meredith?"

"Yeah," the woman - Meredith - says, and pats the seat next to her. "And you are?"

"Adora," she says, sliding into the chair. Meredith nods, taking another sip of her martini. "Penelope's told me a lot about you. You two went to school together?"

Meredith nods. "I was the captain of the swim team, which was right next to the greenhouse. She ran the floral culture class after school, and we got to talking one day when we both ended locked in the girl's locker room. Don't ask why."

Smirking, Adora props up her chin on her hand and leans forward.

"I'm not asking, then," she hedges, and the woman snorts. She sets her martini glass down.

"Okay, what happened was..."

Adora loses count of how many glasses she drinks. The room is pulsing, beating and pounding with lights and music. All she can focus on is Meredith's story, the laughter of her friends as Glimmer climbs atop the table and declares Meredith's husband to a re-match.

Seamus roars his approval, and both Meredith and her cheer for Glimmer. They laugh boisterously at the playfully-hurt look on her husband's face.

Arms wrap around Adora's neck from the back.

"Friends!" comes a high, trill voice. "You made it!"

Adora turns and smiles. "Penelope! Hi!"

"I am sorry I could not say hello sooner," Penelope says, and Adora waves her hand, pulling her into a proper hug.

"No worries! I'm just sorry you have to see Bow and Glimmer like this - what did your wife put in the champagne?"

Penelope giggles. "I'll ask her next time I see her. Are you enjoying yourself?"

Nodding, Adora leans back and surveys the room. "Yeah," she smiles. "Thanks for inviting us."

Something blinks on in the back of her mind.

"Oh - Penelope? Who did you say Endellion was bringing tonight?"

Her friend slips into the chair next to her, eyes bright. Her pink dress falls off her slender shoulders in a cascade of soft waves made of tulle. "Why do you ask?"

Adora forces herself not to blush. She doesn't think she succeeds, though, by the way Penelope's mouth curves into a smirk.

"You met one of them, didn't you?"

She nods, heat staining her cheeks. Penelope's laugh is sweet. "I won't spoil the surprise, then," her friend says, and stands. "But if you haven't found her by the end of the night, come find me okay?"

Adora nods. Penelope waves hello to a _very_ -tipsy Bow before disappearing into the crowd and ignores the way Meredith smirks at her over the almost-empty rim of her own glass.

"Shut up," Adora mutters, and Meredith's smirk grows.

"I didn't say a thing," Meredith points out.

Adora melts into her chair.

She doesn't know how long she stays like that. All she knows, though, is suddenly the room is too stifling, too hot, too crowded, and her stomach lurches. She stumbles to her feet.

"I'm just gonna - I'm gonna get some air," she stutters. No one seems to hear.

Adora flees.

She slips between the moving bodies, eyes darting. There's an itchiness under her skin, scratching up her throat and banging in her ribs. Her head spins, and everything is all at once too loud and too quiet.

She's halfway across the ballroom when the lights stop pulsing. Adora stops.

"And now, for the first dance of the night!" Endellion smiles from the stage, and the people around her burst into noise. She finds herself being carried until she's in the very middle of the ballroom - the exact opposite of where she wants to be.

"Hey, Adora."

She whirls around, blinks.

The stranger from before stands in front of her, smile dancing over her painted lips. Her hand is extended in invitation and Adora doesn't think for a millisecond before she takes it.

Sobriety hits her like a train when the woman pulls her close, rests a hand on the small of her back.

She can't help but notice every detail of the woman's face. Freckles sprinkle her cheekbones and nose, falling across her face like snowflakes on a winter's evening night.

Despite reading about the rare condition, Adora has never seen someone with Heterochromia up close before.

The physical abnormality intrigues her - the woman doesn't blink as Adora regards the way both her brown and blue eyes sparkle. Dark ringlets fall around her shoulders, tumbling further down her back, and Adora longs to pull the curls from the bun at the top of her head.

She wonders how long the rest of the stranger's hair is.

She most definitely does _not_  think of sinking her hands into the woman's hair, tugging her close and testing just how long-lasting her wine-colored lipstick is.

Adora forces the urge down.

Self-restraint, apparently, has left the building along with her ability to think straight.

Holy _shit,_  she's gay.

Instead, she breathes in that musk of florals and wood that's already become her favorite scent in the world. She loses herself, then, to the lights and the feel of the woman's blazer under her fingertips. "You never did tell me your name," she murmurs and the stranger's laugh tastes like champagne on her tongue.

"I never did, huh."

Body moving automatically, Adora tunes out the music until all she can feel is the bass in her chest. "No," she says, and the woman spins out until only their fingertips touch.

Then all of a sudden she's spinning back in.

Adora's hand comes around her body, bringing her close, and their noses almost touch when the woman is fully wrapped in her arms.

"Hi."

The woman smirks. "Hi yourself. You ever going to ask my name or are we going to dance the night away as strangers?"

Adora's opening her mouth when a loud booming accompanied by a flash draws her attention. Around her, people cheer and surge forward to watch how the fireworks burst brightly in the night sky.

By the time she turns back around, the woman is gone.

Adora curses and finds herself elbowing her way through the crowd. But wherever she looks, there's only more and more people. The thought of how many people are actually in these four walls hits her all at once and panic hardens in the pit of her stomach.

She has to get out.

Using the sheer amount of people to disguise herself from whoever may be watching, Adora slips away. Her mind is solely focused on finding an exit now and she's completely forgotten the mysterious woman and the way her heart riots in her chest at the mere thought of her.

She wonders if the woman's first words to her were serious.

 _I hope so,_  she thinks, and spots fluttering curtains that lead out to a small balcony.

_Bingo._

The cold air feels like heaven in her lungs. Adora stretches out her arms, takes a few gulping breaths, and relishes in the feeling. That same mind-clearing moment she had on the dancefloor hits her, and she rests her folded forearms on the cold stone.

She closes her eyes.

The biting wind nips at her shoulders, nose, traveling down her spine through the slit in the back of her dress. Adora shivers, indulgent in the feeling.

"We have to stop meeting like this."

She doesn't even startle, instead choosing to keep her eyes closed. Adora knows who it is, anyways. "You gonna run off again?"

There's a rustle of fabric and warmth spreads across her shoulders. "I don't know, you plan on catching death? It's _freezing_  out here."

"I didn't ask you to come out here," Adora points out, opening her eyes. The woman shrugs and turns to lean against the balcony's edge.

"Maybe I want to stay."

Heat not connected to the blazer now laid across her skin, Adora tries not to inhale. The smell is already slipping across her skin, up her neck, and she draws the blazer closer around her. "You sure you're not cold? It's yours after all-"

"Adora."

She stops. Whatever she was going to say is lost as the words die on her tongue. The woman smiles. "I [wanted] to come out here," the woman smiles, laying her hand on Adora's. "I saw you run out here, looking panicked, and followed."

"Oh, you're following me now? Sounds suspicious. Should I be worried about any foul intentions, She Who Must Not Be Named?"

The stranger bursts out laughing. "I'm not Voldemort!" she insists, and Adora shakes her head.

"How would _I_ know that?" Adora giggles and soaks in the memory of the sweetest-sounding laughter she's ever heard. She wants to remember this night, this moment, for the rest of her life.

Inside, the muffled sound of people cheering gets them both to turn.

Adora realizes how close their lips are again.

"They're counting down," the woman says slowly, cautiously, like she's scared of startling Adora. Mind crystal-clear for the first time since the night begun, Adora sets her hand on the woman's cheek.

"Yeah," she says softly. "They are."

The woman's eyes soften, and her hands come around Adora's waist. They hover so close, yet not close enough, and Adora lets her fingers wander to hers.

"It's okay," Adora murmurs, pressing down on the woman's hands until they touch her hips. She shivers. It isn't because of the biting cold of December 31st.

Inside, the cheering grows louder.

But Adora barely hears it, so wrapped up in the woman in her arms. The world has narrowed to her own heartbeat pressed against hers, pinpointed to the moment in time where the only thing she can feel is this woman's hands on her hips, her body pushed against her so closely that she's no longer shivering.

"Ten!"

"Nine!"

Adora's nose brushes the woman's. "I can't tell if my head spinning is because of you or the champagne."

"Eight!"

The woman laughs softly.

"Why don't we find out?"

She inhales shakily.

"Seven!"

"Are you sure?" the woman says quietly, so hushed Adora almost loses the words in the wind around them.

"Six!"

"Five!"

Adora's smile is so wide it hurts her cheeks. She doesn't care. "I'm sure," she murmurs, and the woman's returning smile is blinding.

"Four!"

"Do I at least get to know your name?" Adora breathes against the stranger's lips.

“Catronia,” she breathes back as Adora's heart does backflips behind her ribs, “but my friends call me Catra.”

"Three!"

“Can I call you Catra?”

"You can call me anything you want," she purrs.

"Two!"

Adora closes the gap between them.

"One!"

Everything fades; the cheering, the fireworks.

The only thing she knows is _Catra._

Catra tastes like champagne, berries, and laughter.

The feeling floods her mouth, and Adora lets herself indulge in the urges she's resisted all night and buries her hands in Catra's ringlets. Her hair is softer than Adora ever imagined.

All of it crescendos as Catra tilts her head, deepening the kiss.

Despite knowing there's going to be lipstick stains around her mouth, Adora lets her. Catra's lips are chapped but warm, bordering on enough friction to drive her insane and not enough.

Their lips break with a laugh.

"Hey, Adora."

Adora smiles back, leans her head forward until their foreheads rest against each other. "Hey," she breathes. "Do you like coffee?"

She swallows Catra's laugh.

Does so again and again.

"Happy New Year's," Adora murmurs.

"Happy New Year's, Adora."

**Author's Note:**

> come scream with me on twitter @adorascatrq as we await s2 because idk about you but momma's DYING for new content noelle pls come through


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